


In a different world...

by Wrathofscribbles



Category: Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29888652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrathofscribbles/pseuds/Wrathofscribbles
Summary: ... they'd both be dead.
Relationships: Zack Fair/Cloud Strife
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	In a different world...

**Author's Note:**

> Is it really canon divergence when it's right there in the game that Zack survives? Eh. Tagging it anyway. Insert standard reminder here that FFVII and all recognisable content and characters are property of Square Enix. I'm merely playing in the sandpit they've created. And crying many tears about canon. And impatiently waiting for more.

In a different world, in a different life, the changes would've been gradual, so slight over a period of months or years as to have been negligible. He'd have had the chance to warn Cloud against getting tattoos until _after_ his first dozen mako shots, as Angeal had once warned him. He'd have had the chance to spar with him on a frequent basis as a judge of strength and endurance, he could've corrected bad posture or sloppy footwork or offered tips on self-care after a particularly gruelling mission, or -

(Or in a different world, in a different life, they'd both be dead already)

Well. A lot of shit could have happened differently, but it didn't, and they're here now, and they've drawn the short straw in _this_ reality. The shower still spooks Cloud, the racket of all that pressurised water in such a confined box reminding him of a hail of bullets on a clifftop. He's clean though, and under his own power, and even if he still stumbles out the bathroom whiter than a ghost and trembling all over, it's progress Zack once feared he'd never see.

There should be freckles across the bridge of Cloud's nose, and a miniscule bump from when he broke it during his trooper days. A scar at the corner of his left eye and another through his eyebrow, from stones cruelly thrown at him as a kid. A crooked pinkie from birth, usually hidden under heavy duty gloves. A birthmark stamped under his shoulder-blade and just to the left of it... a thin calling card from Masamune, it's mirror on Cloud's chest, certain death carved straight through his ribcage.

But there's nothing. Not a scratch, not a single imperfection. Just pale, fresh skin from scalp to toe, a blank slate wiped clean of the map of his life. Courtesy of mako and a madman's experiments.

Maybe one day Zack will dwell on the loss and feel something about it, but now, in this moment? No. He's grateful, in a sense, because it means Cloud's still alive and kicking rather than rotting away in a lab, and maybe... that makes Zack selfish? He's not sure. Even less so whether he _cares_ if he's selfish or not.

Cloud's _alive_. That's all that truly matters.

"You think too much. The noise of all those gears turning keeps me awake, y'know."

"Bullshit. You could sleep through an earthquake and you know it."

"Could not."

"Could too. Your snores are loud enough to rival one."

He gets an elbow driven none too gently into his side for his cheek and can't help but laugh. Can't help but roll over and press a kiss to Cloud's bare shoulder, throw an arm around him and pull him in close.

"Go back to sleep, you menace."

"Only if you join me this time," Cloud replies, palm fitting to the back of his hand and fingers sliding between his.

There's no window. The door's locked and barred by a wardrobe. Their weapons are in grabbing distance and there's materia tucked between the mattress and its frame. Cloud's warm and safe in his arms, nuzzling in his drowsy state, and all is as well as it can be in a world gone straight to hell.

Yeah. He can sleep for a little while.


End file.
